The Frozen Lamb & the Fermented Host: An Easter BBQ
Fiasco™
Intro:
Easter Sunday, circa 1999. I was armed with a boneless
leg of lamb, a grill, and a wine glass that never emptied. What could go wrong?
This is a True Story!
It was Easter weekend, circa 1999.
I was 37, armed with a boneless leg of lamb, a charcoal grill, and a wine glass
that had clearly signed up for overtime. The plan? Cook the lamb on Saturday so
Sunday could be all reheating and revelry. The flaw? I forgot to defrost it!
No problem, I thought. I’d just
toss it on the grill - low and indirect heat should do the trick, like a gentle spa treatment for protein. Five hours later, the lamb was still suspiciously solid in the center,
and I was suspiciously tipsy.
Cue the call to my brother, who had
no idea he was about to become the emergency hotline for meat mismanagement.
Tommy: “How long’s it been on?”
Me: “Five hours.”
Tommy: “FIVE HOURS?”
Me: “Yes.”
Tommy: “Are the coals hot?”
Me: “Yes.”
Tommy: “Are you maintaining the temperature?”
Me: “Yes.”
Tommy: “Did you let the meat come to room temp first?”
Me: “No, because it was frozen when I started.
Tommy: Silence... “Wait - how much wine have
you had?”
At this point, he started laughing
so hard I thought he might choke on his own culinary dignity. I had left out
two critical details:
- The
lamb was frozen when it hit the grill.
- I had
been drinking wine. A lot of wine.
He told me to bump up the heat,
maybe even go direct heat. I complied, still sipping, still hopeful. Eventually, the
lamb cooked through - sort of. It was edible with a reheat the next day, but only after a journey that
involved denial - defrosting denial, and a brother who now refuses to discuss food-related calls from me without a sobriety check first!
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The Frozen Fumble Scale™ |
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